


The Heart of the Wilds

by volatileSoloist



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Burns, Demon AU?, Evisceration, Junkenstein AU, M/M, Stitching, brief character death because I was sad about the permanent character death in the other fic, minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9484262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volatileSoloist/pseuds/volatileSoloist
Summary: She turned around to face Roadhog, the sword following her and pointing at him.Jamison dropped the frag launcher, his feet acting without him thinking… He saw the glint of silver move through the air, directed at Roadhog."Roadhog!" Jamison screamed from the top of his lungs, and Roadhog turned to meet Jamison’s eyes as the doctor leaped in the air and twisted his body around and—





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thefuckistevvs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefuckistevvs/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Ugly and the Beast](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244145) by [thefuckistevvs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefuckistevvs/pseuds/thefuckistevvs). 



It had all happened so fast. Roadhog had been butchering the undead minions of that awful Witch, and he hadn’t been paying attention. He— he hadn’t— _why couldn’t he have been a better protector?_

He normally went into somewhat of a trance whenever he was slaughtering his enemies, the splattering gore and dripping viscera soothing his bloodthirst like nothing else. But upon hearing Jamison’s cry of pain, Roadhog was snapped out of it so fast, it felt like he’d gotten whiplash. He whirled around to see Jamison on the floor, sword speared through him as he twitched on the floor in pain.

It felt like the temperature in the room dropped dramatically; his body normally felt cold, but now it felt like his blood was frozen.

“ _Jamie_ —” he all but choked out as his creator, the love of his life, screamed like he was on fire. Roadhog moved toward him, but his attention was drawn away with the sound of sadistic laughter.

“Oh, didn’t mean to do that,” the Witch said, smiling darkly. “But isn’t this fortunate?”

 _Fortunate?!_ Roadhog was going to tear her apart. He swore it would be the most painful thing she would ever experience, especially now that she pulled the sword, which had been preventing Jamison from bleeding out, from his body.

“You won’t have to be loyal to him anymore.”

Roadhog snapped. A scream tore out of him, the likes of which he’d never heard before, but he didn’t care. He threw himself at the Witch, only for the Reaper to materialize in his way. But Roadhog wouldn’t let anything stop him, especially not the puny bullets from the demon’s gun. But every time he reached out to grab the man, he turned into smoke. It was _infuriating_. But luck was on his side: he stretched out to snatch at him just as he became corporeal again, and he just barely was able to grab onto his leg. He wasn’t going to let go.

He raised the demon up into the air, and using all his superhuman strength, he slammed him into the ground. And then he did it again. And again. And again. He only stopped when the man laid limp in his hand, the ground splattered with his foul blood and pumpkin mush. He carelessly tossed the body to the side, leaving him to twitch there weakly.

Now he could focus on the Witch. As he stepped toward her, her features contorted in rage. "I am the Witch of the Wilds! Do you believe you, a mere monster made of human parts, can defeat me?!" She lifted herself off the ground, wings beating furiously as he body was surrounded with the raw, red power of her anger. The corpses on the ground raised up along with her, a few floating between her and Roadhog. "I will make you beg for mercy."

He didn’t give her a chance to try. He grabbed one of the bodies drifting past him and hurled it at the Witch. As she tried to dodge, he threw out his hook, and felt a bone-deep satisfaction as it caught her around the waist. Then, with all his might, he pulled her to the ground, smiling at her pained wail. Just like her minion before her, Roadhog began to thrash her into the ground. When he lifted he up into the air again, she managed to keep herself up, and with a grip of literal stone, she yanked the chain.

It wasn’t enough to shake Roadhog, however, so she was reduced to flying around, trying to free herself from the hook. "You could have been my servant! I would have made you my right hand along with the Reaper!" She yelled, voice echoing in the stone halls as fog rolled into the room. The floor shook, and began to suddenly crack open in certain spots. It didn’t deter him; if the Witch going to bring the castle down on him, he would make sure he took her too. He remained firmly upright, grip tight as ever, even as he was buffeted with murky swamp water as it trickled out of the walls. "You believe you are your own person? You are nothing but a pile of limbs stitched together! You are meat!"

The ground heaved and rolled, and with his flagging strength from his wounds in the fight, he stumbled; as he did, the Witch clapped her stone hands, and more just like hers erupted out of the ground, pinning him down. “I will make you part of the Earth,” she hissed, and freed herself from the hook as the rocks gripping him began to pull him down into the cracks in the ground.

The Witch sauntered toward him… then past him, and she was looking down on Jamison. She cackled, and as she stood triumphantly over Roadhog’s beloved, she said, “I must admit, you gave me more trouble than I expected. But you are nothing but just another pathetic human,” she said, and she stepped on Jamison’s injured body.

Jamison howled, blood flowing from his mouth, and Roadhog yelled right along with him. With a burst of raw energy, he pulled himself out of the grips of the stone hands, shattering them as his muscles bulged. He charged at the Witch, relishing the look of surprise and fear in her eyes, and grabbed her ankle as she attempted to soar away from him.

He dragged her out of the air, and even though she struggled to free herself, she could do nothing but writhe helplessly as Roadhog grabbed and tore off one of her wings. She screeched as it fell to the ground as shattered, splintered wood. “Reaper!” she cried, but the demon was in no state to answer her plea. _Rrrrrrip— crack!_ went her other wing, and now she was deprived of one of her most valuable assets. “I will destroy you!” she cursed, but it had no effect on the monster.

Roadhog, still holding the Witch, walked over to his hooked and picked it up from where he had dropped it. Taking advance in his loss of focus on her, she kicked away from him. She didn't get far. With a roar, Roadhog threw his hook, and yelled, “I am not an object!”

It pierced her right through the center of her torso, and Roadhog smiled at the anguished scream and splash of dark black blood that spurted out at him. “I belong to no one!” He roared in her face, and this time, she flinched away from him. With a long, slow tug, he ripped his hook out of her chest. She let out a wet, choked wail, and she writhed as he pulled out his hook. As he did, a small, dark object came out with it.

The Witch screamed in fear, and reached out desperately for the object now clenched in Roadhog’s grip. “No, no, don't!”

She slumped to the ground, still stretching out toward her black, pulsating heart, and crawled weakly toward him. Her movements were abruptly halted as Roadhog stepped down onto her. Looking her directly in the eye, Roadhog hissed, “See how you like having something precious taken from you.”

Her eyes bulged, and she choked out a scream, “No! No no no no no!” As he pressed down on her, she seemed to shrivel beneath him. Dark liquid seeped out from her torso and mouth, and Roadhog grunted in disgust as bugs and lizards began to skitter out from her body. Some flew or crawled away, others writhed on the ground along with her. Dead leaves and chunks of wood came from her ruined carcass, and as her skin turned green with algae, roots sprouted from her and fused her mangled body with the ground. It had felt like forever, but soon enough, she was nothing but a dead, mossy stump in the middle of the throne room floor.

Just then, there was a scream from the other side of the corridor. Roadhog turned to look, and saw there the twitching body of the headless Reaper. He was trying to crawl away, but as his did, his body began to crumble beneath him; now that his master had died, his power was gone. The flame of his head burned bright for a moment, and then extinguished, and his body became nothing but dirt and smoke and ash.

Roadhog let out a breath he'd been holding, and just like that, all the adrenaline drained from him. He was on the verge of flopping onto the ground when he heard weak coughing behind him. _Jamie_. How could he have forgotten? He hurried over to his creator, dropping his trophy on the ground, and gently cradled him in his arms. Jamison whimpered as the movement lightly jostled him, and Roadhog couldn't believe he'd been this careless, that he hadn't protected him well enough.

Jamison gave him a small grin, and Roadhog saw blood on his teeth. “Y—” He paused a moment, grimacing in pain. “Ya made it. I’m… glad.”

Roadhog choked on his own breath. He felt Jamison’s agony as if it was his own.

“I—I had— Hog," he sounded like he was trying hard not to cry. "I didn't know— she— she never told me she would—"

"I believe you."

"M' sorry..." Junkrat began to sob, and Roadhog felt like his heart was breaking. "This— this shouldn't— it ain't—" He inhaled sharply, his body shuddering as the pain began to overwhelm him. "It shouldn't 'ave ended like this..."

He pressed his face into Roadhog’s chest, and now he began to cry in earnest, tears spilling down his face and snot dripping from his nose. Roadhog held him closer.

"We— we were gonna go to tha' mountains, we were—fuck," Jamison made a valiant effort to stop crying, but he was unsuccessful. "I'm so sorry, Hog— I'm, I'm so sorry."

Roadhog tried to speak, but his voice broke. Finally, he managed to say what was on his mind. "I should've protected you." He pressed his face into Jamison’s neck, just barely holding back his own tears. "You saved me. I should have protected you, but I failed." He sobbed. "I failed. I— I'm so sorry."

Jamison gingerly swung his arm around Hog’s neck, and Roadhog adjusted to make it easier for him. He looked so tired, just barely hanging on, and his eyes fluttered like he was having trouble focusing. “Hog,” he said, voice hoarse and quiet, “You’re beautiful.”

He looked at Roadhog like he was the whole world. Roadhog looked back; he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his dying companion. When Jamison made an attempt to sit up, and ended up not being able to, the monster leaned down to make it easier for him.

Jamison kissed him, and Roadhog kissed back. It felt like time had stopped, even though Roadhog knew it was running out all too quickly. Jamison’s lips slackened slightly, but Roadhog didn’t want to move away. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered back.

The scientist’s eyes fluttered shut. “Hog,” he murmured, going limp, “Hoggie.” Then he stilled, and Roadhog felt tears beginning to spill from his eyes. His grief felt physical, so visceral and cutting, and yet it also felt so far away, so removed from him. He fought the wail that tried to slip out of him. Everything was quiet in the throne room; Roadhog could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

He paused, and the tears stopped.

_Heart._

Roadhog raised his head, and he turned to see that black, oily heart on the ground… _still beating._

Roadhog could scarcely breathe. Jamison’s heart must have stopped beating by now, but this one hadn't. Carefully, so, _so_ carefully, Hog reached out a hand and felt around for his hook on the ground. His hand found the cold metal, and he grabbed it, pulling it closer. He then used that same hand to pull away the lab coat and shirt beneath, exposing Jamison’s bare chest.

Roadhog could still see blood coming from his wounds, moving more sluggishly as it was no longer being pushed out by a frantic heart. He didn't want to hurt Jamison, but he was already dead, and this was his only option. He’d never felt so desperate before.

Slowly, he raised the hook to Jamison’s chest, and he dug it in.

More blood spurted out at him, and this time when he saw it, he felt sick. But he kept going, digging deeper in and carving flesh away until there was a big enough cavity for him to see Jamison’s still, cooling heart. He reached his hand in, gripped the cold, slimy organ, and pulled it out.

It took him a minute to register that he'd just pulled out his beloved’s heart. He gently placed it on the ground, and promised himself that if this worked, he'd bury it somewhere safe. Then he grabbed the dark, beating wild heart on the floor, and placed it in the gaping hole in Jamison's chest.

For a terrible moment, nothing happened.

Slowly, so _slowly_ , the veins and arteries of the black heart began to creep away from its central mass, and they connected to the torn ones left behind where Jamison’s heart had been. Then, Jamison’s body, which had been growing cooler, was suddenly _burning_ hot. It took everything Roadhog had to not drop Jamison out of pain and surprise.

The heart in his chest was now beating frantically, and the blood which had been oozing out of Jamison went as black as the night, becoming sludgy and tar-like. The hair on Jamison’s head suddenly shot out from his scalp, turning a sickly yellow and becoming long and stiff. The whole transformation was actually a little frightening.

Then Jamison drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and Roadhog froze. He could hardly believe what was happening.

Quickly, he wrapped Jamison’s lab coat tightly around his chest to prevent him from bleeding out any further. Then, he stood up, pocketed the scientist’s old heart, and ran off to Jamison’s lab.

It was a fair distance off from the castle; Jamison liked his privacy (and more than that, Roadhog suspected, the townsfolk hadn't wanted him any closer). Still, Roadhog had memorized the way from the town to his lab on his many trips back and forth. The long trek seemed to pass in a heartbeat—he barely registered the smell of smoke and burnt flesh from the destruction he'd wrought earlier. It wasn't long before Roadhog was passing through the ruined doors of his— _their_ home.

He hurried inside, and placed Jamison on the slab that he himself had once lain on. The scientist hadn't stirred since his initial breath, but Roadhog was relieved beyond words that he was still breathing. Roadhog was probably still in shock, to be honest.

As he looked over Jamison’s unconscious form, he noticed that some of his old wounds from back when the mob attacked him had reopened, and the strange black sludge was seeping out. He panicked for a minute, but then thought back to the time where he had come home after being attacked, and Jamison had lovingly stitched him up. Where did he keep those tools?

Roadhog rummaged around the room for a period of time, opening drawers and dumping out their contents until finally a small first aid kit had fallen out. He opened it with slightly shaky hands and withdrew the small, curved needle inside. Threading it was a whole other ordeal, what with the size of his hands, but he eventually managed it.

He then turned back to Jamison, who was still and unmoving on the table. Obviously the first wound that needed closing was the gaping hole in his chest. “Sorry if this hurts,” Hog mumbled, and pushed the needle through Jamison’s flesh. He jerked slightly, which relieved Roadhog to no end and worried him at the same time.

He hadn't been paying much attention to how Jamison had been fixing him up, so his stitches were nowhere near as perfect. They were a little wobbly, and he was afraid to pull too tight on the string to close up the wound, but he pushed through for Jamison’s sake. He spent a good period of time intensely focused on attending to Jamison and stitching his myriad wounds. There was one on his shoulder, and one on his foot, and of course he had to sew up the sword wounds.

He was so deep in concentration that he hadn't noticed the sound of rummaging from a room over, and a scent of oil that was growing stronger. It was only once he finished that he registered what that meant, and he immediately grabbed his hook and stalked into the other room. He was reluctant to leave Jamison, but he didn't want to take any more chances.

He peered around a corner, and was deeply surprised to see that the intruder was no more than a very young girl. Her brown hair was mussed up with dirt and blood, and as she turned around—freezing in alarm as she did—he saw that she was missing her left hand. Had he done that? Hog couldn't remember.

Then he noticed what she was carrying: a bucket of oil, and a lit torch. His blood raced in his ears as a familiar rage overtook him, and he lunged at her. She cried out in panic and immediately threw her torch down between them. Evidently she'd been spreading the oil around, because the ground immediately burst into flame, and it began spreading throughout the room. Then she quickly scampered toward an open window—she must have come in that way—and was gone into the night, leaving Hog trapped in a burning room.

He raised a hand to his snout, attempting to block the smoke that was suddenly thick in the air. The flame had spread between him and the door he'd entered through, and it was roaring higher every minute.

He tried to rush through the wall of flame, but it was burning intensely hot, and he backed away, pain coursing through him. He looked around for another way out, but the fire had already spread into the only other exit. It was only a matter of time before it reached Jamison.

He couldn't die. Not now.

But his strength began to wane as the amount of oxygen in the air decreased dramatically. He scrambled to the window the girl had gone out of, but it was much too small for him to pass through. He was trapped.

He began to cough violently, and slid down to the ground. His lungs had never been that good, but he hadn't blamed Jamison for that. He couldn't bring himself to be angry at the man he loved. His vision slowly began to grow dim as the flames roared ever closer.

His eyes closed, and just then, he heard a loud _BANG_.

——

Hog opened his eyes, and what he saw surprised him. He had evidently passed out, but as he took in the burned ruin around him, he couldn't understand how he'd survived. The place he'd called home was nothing more than a shell that still glowed, despite the light of the coming dawn.

It was then that he noticed there was a light weight against his chest. He looked down, and spread across him in a protective embrace was _Jamison_.

Hog’s first thought was one of shock and relief. How had Jamison made it to him? He'd been out like a light when the fire had started. But clearly, if he had gotten in the room, he had been conscious at one point. His second though was to check him for wounds, but he couldn't see any burns whatsoever. In fact, he didn't appear to have any either, apart from the ones he'd gotten when trying to reach the lab door. How had Jamison gotten there without getting horribly burnt?

Roadhog was shaken from his thoughts as Jamison began to stir. The scientist lifted his head, and opened his eyes.

Where two lovely orange eyes had once been were two balls of fire, and he couldn't help but flinch.

Jamison didn't seem to notice, instead reaching a hand up to caress Roadhog’s cheek. “Hoggie,” he said, voice crackling slightly, and as he did, Roadhog could see a light coming from inside him, as though there were glowing coals in his stomach. “I— I was dead. What did ya _do_?”

Hog swallowed, looking into his eyes. “What had to be done,” he said, and mercifully, Jamison didn't push.

Instead, he looked around the ruins of his home. “Holy dooley, what a mess. I honestly have no clue how we didn't burn up, Hog. I just remember waking up, and the house was on fire. I knew you were in the other room, and I raced in, and I saw ya unconscious, and I tried to protect you. Then I woke up again.”

As Hog stared into those glowing, fiery eyes, he realized what had happened. When he put the Witch’s heart into Jamison, it must have given him some sort of magic. Given his appearance, it probably had to do with fire. It was the only reason he could think of as to why they had survived when the place had come down around them.

“It's probably a side effect of bringing you back,” Hog said, finding his voice. “You might have some sort of magic abilities now.”

“Magic?” Jamison said, utterly surprised. “But… you killed the Witch, didn’tcha?”

Hog propped Jamison up slightly, and tapped a finger on the stitches in the center of his chest. Jamison looked down, and his mouth fell open in shock as he saw the work that had been done on his chest.

“That… that _thing_ that came out of the Witch,” he said, voice quiet and weak, “Ya put it _inside_ me?”

Hog nodded guiltily. “It was the only thing I could think to do.” He paused and looked away. “I'm sorry.”

Jamison became quiet, and Hog felt awful. Had bringing him back been a selfish act? He felt dizzy with his roiling, conflicting emotions.

He felt a light, but _hot_ touch on his cheek, and he realized Jamison’s hand was caressing his face. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“But I—”

“Ya did what ya had to. I'm alive again and it's all thanks to you, Hoggie. I'm so happy that I get a second chance with you.” With that, Jamison leaned in and brushed his lips against Roadhog’s.

It was burning hot, but Roadhog could care less. He pressed back, and deepened the kiss. Jamison sighed happily against him. When they finally broke away, Jamison smiled at him. “Help me up, Hog. We should probably get away from this place.”

Hog immediately slung Jamison’s arm over his shoulder and stood both of them up. Jamison giggled at the sudden lurch, and the two of them walked out of the ruins. They made it outside, all the way to the creek that bordered the woods, and Jamison said, “We can stop here for a mo’, Hog.” Hog slowly helped him sink to the ground, and Jamison looked at Hog as he realized he was being stared at.

“What's the matter?” he said, giggling again. “Got something on my face? Bet I look like a right proper hayseed after all this.”

Hog shifted uncomfortably before pointing at the stream. Jamison crawled over to the sandy bank and let out a soft, surprised gasp. “Holy dooley, that's a tick disturbing, ain't it?” He didn't seem too troubled by it beyond that, but he gave Roadhog a sideways glance. “Does it bother you, mate?”

Roadhog immediately shook his head, and Jamison giggled again. It was beginning to get a bit odd—what about this situation was funny? “You don't have ta lie to me, Hog. I'll do something about it.”

Hog sighed, but Jamison had already stood up to his feet, and began to stretch. For someone recently dead, he looked surprisingly limber. Suddenly, he said, “Let's go back to town. Wanna get one last look before we leave.”

Hog nodded. Even though he didn't say anything, Jamison responded, “Didn't get much of a chance to enjoy the carnage and chaos you caused down there.”

Now that Hog wasn't in a rush, the two of them took the time to enjoy the nature around them. The birds in the woods were just beginning to awaken, and the flowers were starting to unfurl. Jamison stooped down to pick a pretty one for Roadhog, but as he touched it, flame sparked from his fingers, and the plant shriveled and died.

Jamison looked surprised. “Whoops,” he muttered, before staring down at his hand. “Guess that'll… that'll take some gettin’ used to.”

Hog rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Jamison smiled up at him. The trip into town was a little more tense after that, unfortunately.

When they finally made it, Jamison stopped, took a deep breath in, and surveyed the wreckage laid out before him. “Ya did a number on these arseholes, didn’tcha?” He laughed and kicked one of the charred corpses at his foot. “See how you like being burned alive,” he said, tone vicious.

After that, he just strolled into town. It seemed like he was looking for something, but Roadhog wasn't sure what. He merely stood from a distance and allowed Jamison to take his time. When he finally came back, he was wearing a tight grin. “Let's head back to tha’ castle.”

Roadhog was surprised. “Why… would you want to go back?”

Jamison shrugged and said, “Wanna get my launcher.”

After everything Jamison had been through, the least Roadhog could do was humor him. “Okay,” he said, and let Jamison take the lead.

They walked up through town to the bridge, which was covered in rubble and broken automatons. Jamison hurried up to one of them and began fiddling around with its head. “What are you doing?” Roadhog asked, his curiosity beginning to get the better of him.

“Don’tcha worry your pretty head about it, Hoggie,” he said, and with that he raced off to the castle, leaving Roadhog to huff and puff behind him. As it was, Jamison made it inside first.

When he finally reached the door, he peered inside and felt a stab of fear when he didn't see him inside. Then, suddenly— “BOO!”

A masked man was standing before him, hands outstretched in a caricature of claws. Hog flinched, barely imperceptibly, and sighed as he took in the strange figure before him. “Not funny,” he grumbled, and Jamison cackled.

“You should've seen your face!”

“I wish I could see _yours_ ,” Hog said with a sigh. Jamison’s head was now almost completely covered with a scrap of burlap, his hair sticking up out of it in a stiff ponytail. What was odd about it was the two telescope-like lenses that peered out at him. “You eyes don't really bother me that much.”

“Well, maybe it bothers _me_ , okay?” Jamison snapped. He stilled, and then sighed. “Let's get me launcher and get out of this shit town.”

They ventured inside, and Roadhog was able to notice how much damage had been done, especially to the throne room. Over to the side, there was a pile of dirt and ash that had once been a fearsome demon. Just in front of the throne was an old, mossy stump, and behind that was a large splatter of dry, red blood. “Shit,” Jamison said softly. “Really did a number on me, didn't she?”

Hog nodded, giving a quiet grunt. Jamison picked the bloody sword off the ground, and with an incredible amount of vigor, stabbed it right through the stump. “Some witch. More of a Bitch, if you ask me.” He broke out into laughter at his own joke, and then picked up his launcher from where it lay.

After that, it was a short walk to the outskirts of town, and then the town disappeared behind them as they traveled along a beaten path that led into the woods, and away from it all. All the bad memories and experiences that Jamison had here wouldn't have to plague him anymore.

After they'd walked a half-day’s journey, Roadhog turned to look at Jamison. “Where are we going?” he asked, and Jamison looked thoughtful for a moment.

“We’ll walk until we get close to another town, I guess. We can build a cabin in the woods, or maybe in the mountains, and you can get some pigs to play with, and I'll teach you everything I know about the world.” He paused, and then added, ”And maybe blow something up every once and awhile.” As he spoke, his voice got more and more excited, and it warmed Roadhog’s heart to hear him so happy. It seemed that for once, they could be happy together without worrying about malicious townsfolk or corrupt rulers. It was a fresh start. Maybe… maybe they'd be okay.

Hog gave him a warm smile. “Sounds good, Jamie.”

**Author's Note:**

> I justified Roadhog getting Jamison home before the little girl showed up as Roadhog spent more time grieving in the castle, and here Roadhog was getting home as fast as possible. I didn't know what her significance was in the other story, so I left it vague.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
